


Gravity between Us

by Orianess



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: 4+1 format, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Job, Car Sex, Dry Humping, Implied bad touch from Murdoc, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Straight up word porn, friends with benefits relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 12:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20097079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orianess/pseuds/Orianess
Summary: Four times Jack and Mac hooked up as friends and one time it was a whole lot more than that.





	Gravity between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I’ve had a really bad couple months and this was me working through some emotions. Please enjoy the porn my brain made in a fit of artistic catharsis. All mistakes are mine.

Jack has seen a lot of dead and dying men in his years of field operations. Plenty as a bystander and a lot by his own hands. Some are wounded and bloodied physically or some have been mentally broken and battered, but the look of incoming death in their eyes is usually the same. 

He’s seen too many times how wild desperation gives way to panic and finally resignation. Some men scream their way through it, some clench their teeth and give into it quietly but that horrible look is always the same.

Jack is, well, not comfortable with death, but used to it. He’s had enough brushes with it, been it’s harbinger so frequently he’d say he and death might as well be coworkers. Death itself doesn’t make him nervous, he’s made his peace with going out in some likely violent manner, gun in hand and hell at his back.

That didn’t mean he was in a hurry to cross over. He liked living well enough, if one could call it that when you were chained to babysitting duty by a set of dog tags , but hey he was a patient man.

Which is why he was shocked as shit when this fucking kid, barely old enough to buy his own beer but old enough to kill for his country, walked into his life as his brand new EOD tech, and he already had a battle worn thousand yard stare. Jack literally considered demanding an instant refund, wanting to trade up for a soldier that isn’t already this level of broken and likely to get them both blown sky high at the first opportunity.

But Jack told himself it didn’t matter how broken this soldier was, Jack was due to go home soon and he’d do his job to his best ability to keep the little punk alive while he was here.

But it wasn’t that simple.

Because the kid, Mac, as he came to know him was not just a kid with a death wish and the bluest old-soul eyes he’s ever seen.

He was kind, pure intentioned, determined, hell bent to do a good job like he was Atlas carrying the world around on his lithe frame, and above all he was just a solid good man.

Too good to be in a place this fucking awful. And the one time Jack had off-hand mentioned Mac’s hero complex about wanting to change the world, what had the kid said in response? He’d given Jack some mumbo jumbo science lecture about equal and opposite reactions according to physics and gravity. The majority of it went over Jack’s head but he understood the gist of what he’d meant.

The world didn’t change unless you put something into motion to make it so.

Jack knew he was screwed right then.

Seriously, how was he not supposed to fall in love with this golden-hearted fair-haired boy who wanted to do his best to change the world.

It was like Mac said that day. It was rules of life according to science. 

And there was a whole lot of gravity involved, that was damn sure. Maybe even magnetism.

Jack could only guess the name of it but he was pulled into Mac’s space, one desert scorched day at a time, til Jack couldn’t tell when his mission to survive Mac’s reckless courage had changed to be Mac’s shield from all the hellfire evil in the world.

And as they worked their way into each other’s space, Jack realized that the inertia dragging them toward each other was not only mutual but fiery.

That realization came in the form of Mac and him dry humping in a base alleyway after a particularly close call. 

It had started with them walking to mess hall after returning from a near miss ambush by a local rebel cell. Mac’s helmet had actually been shot off his head and Jack, hours later, can still hear his own screams for Mac to answer him as he crawled over to check on the kid where he’d fallen into the dirt. He was fine, plopped his helmet with the bullet still embedded back on his head and off they went. Jack spent the rest of day waiting for Mac’s inevitable crash and burn breakdown over exactly how close it was, but it never came. The kid stayed quiet, just walked in step with Jack right at his side and would only give minimal one word answers for anything Jack said.

When Jack had finally had enough of the stoicism act, he had yanked Mac into an alley between tents and pressed him against a wall. He demanded to know what the fuck was wrong with him, if he needed to scream or cry to just go ahead because burying it for now to explode later in the field wasn’t going help either of them. 

And Mac exploded alright. he’d gone from the thousand yard empty stare to ‘fucking challenge accepted’ in two seconds and just when Jack was sure he was going to get decked, Mac’s lips slammed against his. Jack remembers that he had gasped, honestly surprised because he hadn’t seen it coming, and when he did Mac had licked his way into Jack’s mouth with a desperation usually saved for the battlefield.

Well, Jack had said whatever he needed and he wasn’t going to take it back now.

It was a quick and dirty situation. Mac grinding up against Jack’s thigh as he searched Jack’s lips for salvation kiss by kiss and Jack had just fallen into line with this idea because he’d by lying if he said he didn’t want it, had fantasized about it once or twice. Jack had used the loose hold he had on Mac’s shoulder to drag him in closer and it brought their crotches together in a way that made his dick pulse with electricity. They both groaned against each other’s lips and neither of them seemed to be able to stop as they slotted themselves together bucking and grinding to find a rhythm that would bring them relief. It’s over quickly and Jack manages to meet Mac’s eyes for a brief moment as they both catch their breath and shift to adjust for the wetness in their shorts.

And that’s when he sees it, the absolutely wild terror in Mac’s eyes, the kind he’d seen in the faces of so many dying men. The expression that says, ‘please don’t take me next, I’m not ready.’ 

Jack understands immediately this little stolen dirty moment between them was just a high to escape the near death panic from before. Mac had needed something to chase back the terror and emptiness inside and he’d entrusted Jack with the privilege of seeing him so undone and lost, had let him have the honor of holding him while he pulled himself together. 

It makes Jack ache for this fucking kid who’s eyes are way too old for someone so young and he can feel his own regrets bubbling in his throat over the idea that he’ll soon be leaving him here all alone to fight a war he had no business being in the first place.

He steps back as Mac starts adjusting his clothes and running shaking fingers through his short blonde bangs to smooth it out. Mac gives him a nod and walks out of the alley first and Jack follows a minute later, because he’s seen how this usually works for the other guys in camp. How they have their little private moments with each other that involves some kind of ‘thank god we’re alive’ celebratory fucking before they go back to playing cards and passing time until they’re called out again to become gears in the war machine. Jack doesn’t judge, he’s survived enough shit to not question other people’s coping mechanisms but he has to say he never would’ve guessed his bomb nerd would be one of them.

Jack does his best not to take it personally when Mac doesn’t mention it again and seems to shy away from Jack for a few hours like a nervous animal. He goes along with the charade and cracks jokes and plays the goofball and pretends that he can’t still taste Mac’s moans in the back of his throat.

And he’s like forty percent sure the whole thing doesn’t have anything to do with him reupping for another tour with the kid when he signs the paper work a few days later.

—-  
—-  
—-

The next time it happens is a few months after they join up with DXS and Mac and Jack end up sharing a cheap no-tell motel in south France.

Their exfil would come by morning, hours away still, and they had desperately needed the rest.

Jack had gotten his arm dislocated in the last skirmish and Mac was preparing to help him set it right, frowning as he studied Jack’s bare chest and arm like he was going to take Jack apart like he does his little inventions.

And it hadn’t escaped Jack’s notice that his young partner is sporting that blank stare again, like a sea of fire is laid before him and Mac’s going to have to make the swim to a far distant shoreline. It’s a looks that drowns in volumes of defeat and guilt. It been awhile since he’s seen it on Mac but no matter the time that’s passed, Jack remembers it, still hates to see it.

The older soldier taps Mac’s cheek with two stern fingers to get his attention.

Mac turns a glare on him and Jack points at him using his uninjured hand.

“Stop that.” Jack commands quietly and Mac scoffs at him.

“Stop what?”

“Overthinking.” Jack tells him seriously, groaning as he goes to shift his stiff back and it makes a twinge of sharpened pain flare through his injured shoulder. “Can feel the judgmental obsessing from here. We did the best we could Mac. Sometimes shit just goes wrong.”

Mac laughs under his breath, a humorlessly bitter sound. “Like the part where you almost took a bullet for me?”

Jack rolls his eyes, thinking of the tac vest he shed in the escape that had two slugs in the back of it, “dude that’s my job. I watch your back right? Don’t give it a second thought, you’d have done it for me.”

Mac nods, eyes drifting to that faraway place and Jack snaps his fingers at Mac which gets him another glare.

“Stay with me, buddy. Don’t be so freaking hard on yourself or us for that matter. We’re okay and mission accomplished. End of story. Thornton will get us tomorrow morning and this will just be another one for the books.”

Mac hums noncommittally and puts Jack’s arm into the correct position and looks away from Jack’s eyes as he says, “you ready?”

Jack nods, letting out a deep breath.

“Count of three.” Mac tells him

Jack braces and forces himself to relax.

“ one, tw-“ CRACK.

Jack muffles his yell against his knuckles and stands up to pace around the room while the pain wears away, gripping the newly resocketed shoulder. He wipes away the moisture in his eyes and huffs out a few shaky breaths.

“Thanks buddy.” He manages to say gruffly, massaging the tender muscles for a second. But Mac doesn’t respond, he’s retreated to the bathroom and Jack can hear the sound of him rummaging in the little cabinets under the sink. The blonde comes back with a towel and some duct tape, fashioning a rough sling with nimble fingers but his eyes won’t stray from the ground.

Mac gestures for Jack to sit, and he does, so he can set him up with the homemade sling but the minute he starts trying to fit it to Jack’s neck, Jack knows he’s going to have to stop him. 

“Mac?” 

Mac doesn’t look at him, just continues to fidget with material in his hands so Jack decides to press the boundary of friendly touch and too-much touch. He slips his good hand up to gently turn Mac’s face so that he has to look into Jack’s eyes and he can see the moisture already gathered in the blue.

“Mac, I’m alright. This isn’t because of you, ‘kay?”

Mac closes his eyes and his hands fall heavy to his sides, dropping the sling material on the bed spread on the way.

“Who made the call to go through the back, me or you?” Mac whispers roughly, eyes still closed and squinted shut as if he could erase the memory by will power alone. Jack can’t stand the anguish in his tone, has to stop him right now.

“Doesn’t matter.” Jack tells him firmly, letting his good hand squeeze Mac’s wrist in an attempt to firmly restate his point. He says it because its true, either one of them could have made the call but he says it mostly because he hates seeing the kid be so damn hard on himself, never reveling in the victories because he only sees the losses.

“It matters, Jack! I almost got you killed tonight!” Mac growls at him through gritted teeth, and pulls his wrist from Jack’s grip to rub tiredly at his eyes and when he opens them again Jack sees it, the Look, again.

The suffering wounded animal look, like a wild beast caged, cornered and ready to give up. 

Jack is the one that moves this time, because he doesn’t know how to make that look go away other than to offer comfort. 

He stands and cups the back of Mac’s head and drags him in so that their foreheads are touching, his fingers tightening in a soft grip in the shorter locks of hair at Mac’s nape.

It’s a tender press of skin to skin, honestly pretty innocent by anyone’s standards, but when they lock eyes, it feels like so much more. Jack swears he can feel static in the air between them like lightening in a summer squall, can feel the air between them thick and hard to breathe as they stand so close to one another.

“Mac, please...” Jack whispers and he doesn’t even know what the hell he’s asking for. Mac shakes his head, eyes falling closed on a quiet sound that’s something whimpered and moaned, a mournful sound that should be too gut wrenching to make Jack as hard it does.

He’s not a hundred percent sure who moves first this time but within a few seconds their lips are moving against one another, just like that night in camp in the alley. But each kiss lingers this time, like neither wants to hurry this to an end, warm and dry slides of lip that slowly become moist and urgent.

Mac pulls back just enough to work his mouth down Jack’s jaw and to the curve of his neck before he places one hand against Jack’s fly, pausing only a second when he feels just exactly how effected the older man is.

“Can I?” Mac whispers against his neck between nibbling kisses that have Jack gasping. He doesn’t know what Mac is asking permission for exactly, but he inevitably knows his answer is a yes so he just nods because he can’t form a coherent vocalization that would actually count as words.

And then Mac drops to his knees and starts to unzip Jack from the confines of his pants and oh god he should stop him now, before this gets even more out of hand than it already is. 

But Jack’s still just a man, a sinner through and through no doubt, and if he is already going to be in the fire he might as well have a good time getting burned. 

He lets his good hand rest on Mac’s cheek and goes without much effort when Mac pushes at him to sit on the bed’s edge after he shoves his pants and boxers to his ankles.

Mac takes him in hand, a gentle squeeze around the base, and Jack can feel his breathing halt in his lungs as he meets that intense sapphire stare. The wounded animal look is gone for the moment and Jack feels like the tables have turned, he might be this kid’s prey now, the one who’s hunted and cornered.

The kid doesn’t waste anytime after that, he takes Jack’s dick into the wet warm gulf of his mouth and it feels unlike any fantasy he’s ever had. It’s too good, too hot and not enough all at once and it has him bowing forward to cradle Mac’s head with his good arm, fingers scrambling and sliding across Mac’s shoulders for something to hold on to.

“Oh Jesus Christ Mac...” Jack whispers, watching as Mac’s blonde head bobs between his legs, feels the tiniest drag of teeth on an up slide that has him hissing in the best way. He’s moaning as Mac works him over and he doesn’t care what any one would say if they saw them right now, he’s too close to heaven’s locked (locked for him anyway) gate to give a shit about how needy he sounds. 

Mac looks up at him for a moment, slurping obscenely as he goes down again and when Jack feels his cock bump the back Mac’s throat the sound he makes is terribly whiny. It’s probably embarrassing for a man as old as Jack is to get this worked up for a blow job but who cares.

Well Mac cares, apparently. He looks rather pleased with himself every time he looks up at Jack, smug even. As smug as a guy can look with a dick buried in his mouth and Jack doesn’t have the brain cells to interpret that expression.

Mac sucks him a little faster, keeps his mouth a little slack and Jack really hates that he’s going to be done so quickly but he’s not going to be able to hold back. He can feel himself building to the bright gut-deep finish he knows is coming and he has enough sense to warn Mac.

“Mac I’m gonna- holy shit baby, I’m comin’, I’m comin’...” and Mac instead of pulling back buries his face deeper in Jack’s lap and relaxes his jaw so that Jack can spend right down the back of his throat with a broken yell that probably woke the neighbors of their seedy motel.

Mac pulls back when Jack guides him to do so with a gentle touch and the fucking proud smile he gives Jack has his heart beating extra hard. Jack has the decency to wipe some spittle from the corner of Mac’s lips before he squeezes Mac’s shoulder.

“Get up and unbuckle your pants.” Jack tells him with a soft sigh and Mac looks almost scandalized by it.

“What?”

“Unbuckle for me, please? M’arm’s still too numb and unbuckling is a two handed job-“

“Jack you don’t have to-“

“I don’t do shit in halves, Mac you know that. And I want to. Let me, please ?”

Mac hesitates, long enough Jack’s about to tell him he doesn’t have to if he’d rather not, before he stands, nods a little shyly and starts to unbuckle and unzip, removing his flushed dick from the tightness of his jeans, giving himself a cursory stroke.

Jack’s seen Mac’s cock before, mostly in and out of the shower at their old camp, but he’s never seen it erect and he’s surprised at himself when his mouth waters in anticipation. It’s bigger than he expected and he sincerely hopes he does a decent enough job (he’s not done this in a long fucking time, alright?) to at least properly thank Mac for the mind blowing blowjob and orgasm he just received.

He wraps his good hand around Mac and draws him in a little closer, grateful Mac’s just the right height for him to stay level with his dick and not have to lean too much given the state of his battered self. He looks up at Mac with a smirk and realizes the blonde looks nervous, like he didn’t just almost kill Jack with a blowjob and his pretty eyes.

Jack takes a breath, inhales the smell of Mac that’s salt-musk sweat and the other scent that’s just familiar skin and he dives in. He lets Mac slide in over his tongue and closes his lips experimentally trying for suction and tightness and the sigh Mac lets out in response has Jack’s now soft dick twitching in interest again.

“Oh Jack, god that’s good....” Mac whispers, completely breathless and Jack hums appreciatively when Mac lets his hand slide through his short hair.

Jack works Mac in in slow smooth strokes, letting his tongue circle and press while he does his best to hollow his cheeks for maximum pressure. It takes more concentration than he cares to admit but he feels he’s not doing too bad for being as rusty as he is if Mac’s whimpering gasps are anything to go by.

Jack pushes Mac’s jeans down the rest of the way and slides his hand around to cup under his ass, urging him forward and Mac looks down at him with deliberate focus. Jack meets his eyes and does what Mac did before, shoves his face down til Mac is completely buried in his mouth which drives the most satisfying surprised shout from Mac he’s ever heard.

Jack pulls off, swallowing the extra spit in his mouth while he jacks Mac’s length with a firm hand and he can tell from the speed he uses that Mac needs it a little faster, a little harder.

Mac moans low and long for the firm hand gripping him and Jack takes the moment Mac’s eyes meet his to whisper, “Come on, don’t be shy... I can handle you. Y’wont hurt me.”

Mac nods a little and guides his dick back into Jack’s mouth which has him muttering at the ceiling and Jack puts his hand back on Mac’s ass cheek so he has something to hold.

Mac starts slow at first and builds as he lets himself give in to the sensation, he rests both hands on the sides of Jack’s head and starts to rock his hips, working for the pace he clearly needs.

It’s exciting, really. Mac’s dick presses almost painfully into the top of his mouth, and Jack feels an odd sense of pride in being able to give this to his partner, being able to let his friend take what he needs from him.

And Mac takes. He fucks forward into Jack’s mouth with some speed and when he starts bumping Jack’s throat, it’s a near thing to keep his gag reflex steady when it happens again and again but the way Mac is falling apart above him makes it worth it.

“Jack this is- oh yeah, that’s it, t-that’s it Jack, just like that...” Mac groans, his whispers getting more strained and stuttered as he goes. Jack lets the hand resting under his ass squeeze and that seems to be the final straw, as Mac suddenly snaps his hips forward and starts to withdraw and Jack can’t chase him far enough to keep him inside so he opens his mouth and lets Mac come on his presented tongue and the stubble of his chin as he jerks himself to the final release.

“My god, Jack that’s so hot...” he whines as Jack leans in and sucks the remainder from the head of his dick, shuddering a little with sensitivity. “Oh my god.”

Jack pulls back and smirks up at him as he wipes the missed dribble of cum from his chin. “you’re telling me, buddy.

And Jack wishes he’d picked a different endearment almost instantly because as soon as he says it, Mac freezes (if only a second) in the middle of pulling his jeans back up.

Jack goes to say something but as he reaches for his pants, his shoulder decides to remind him how bending after a dislocation is a bad idea. He manages to bite down a growl over the pain and when it dies down to an unpleasant throbbing, Mac is kneeling beside him with an expression of utter anxiety.

“M’okay.” Jack promises and Mac nods, but the look in his eyes looks anything but reassured. Mac helps him yank his pants up before taking up the sling material he’d thrown aside from earlier and starts fashioning it into place for Jack’s arm.

The quiet between them is intense and thick. A moment of field first aid like this usually involves some bantering and poking fun at one another, but there’s no room for it now. But neither one of them wants to ignore it clearly, especially if the way Mac’s chewing his lip so fiercely is any indication at his over-critical worry. Jack figures he better bite the bullet and start the conversation.

“Listen Mac-“

“I’m sorry.”

Jack goes still, waiting to see if Mac’s going to continue and when he doesn’t, Jack takes the opportunity to go first.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, man. There’s nothing wrong with having needs. In a job like this, every one needs to find a way to blow off a little steam. The only thing that’s important now is how we go forward.”

Mac is silent and so very still, only his hands working at making the sling strap give away his reaction with the barest hint of tremors. “How so?”

“Well it really depends on what you want.” Jack tells him, hissing a little when the sling pulls his arm a little too tight but instantly relieved when Mac corrects it. Mac steps back to observe his handy work and Jack nods at the clearly silent question of comfort. “It’s good man, thanks. But seriously, can we talk about this?”

Mac looks frustrated to the say the least, pacing away to the door, then to the window, before he says, “I don’t know, Jack. I mean, should... What if I don’t know wha-“

“Well then... How about I go first?” Jack asks and Mac flashes him a sharp look that’s one part fear, three parts curiosity and just nods, settling his back against the wall to look at Jack.

“What I want is for you to take care of yourself, and to let me help you. However you need it. If that’s just being a sounding board for your ideas and the best body guard ever, count me in. If that’s more of this, I’m good with it. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to. I’m here for you, anyway that you need me, okay partner?” Jack finishes at last, hopes Mac can hear the sincerity in his voice.

Mac doesn’t say anything for a long while, just watches Jack like he expects him to either kick him to the curb or mock him for his silence. Jack decides, it’s probably best to leave it where it is for now.

“You don’t have to say anything right now, alright?” Jack adds around a yawn that sneaks out of him. He glances at the motel clock and reads a little past two in the morning. “Just know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Deal?”

Mac nods, expression carefully neutral. “Deal.”

“Good. Now come lay down. We’ve got a couple hours of shut eye to get before Thornton sends us the extraction team.” he pats their motel bed and carefully lays himself back against the stiff mattress.

Mac hits the light switch before he joins him on the other side, a deliberate gap between them, but Jack’s simply too tired to read any kind of subtext in that at the moment. It’s sharply quiet on Jack’s left, he can feel Mac holding himself perfectly still in the darkness, so it makes Jack swat at him with his good arm and he hears Mac grunt in response when he lands a hit to his hip.

“What was that for?” Mac demands indignantly and Jack sighs.

“You’re thinkin’ too loud again. Go to sleep, will ya?”

“Asshole.” Mac mutters with a snicker that has the bed shaking under his almost-laughter.

“Brat.” Jack chuckles. 

“Bossy.”

“Know it all.”

“Knuckle-dragger.”

“Cock sucker.”

“You first.” 

It’s such a petty grade school type come back that it startles tear-inducing wheezing laughter from both of them. When they finally calm down, wiping tears from their eyes, they both sigh and the distance between them feels less noticeable.

“G’night Mac.”

“Night, Jack.”

When morning comes, Mac’s eyes look a little brighter and Jack swears there isn’t anything he won’t do to keep that light there.

—-  
—-  
—-

That night in France marked the first of many post-mission forays. Not just quick handjobs or blowjobs either, but a few tumbles between the sheets doing more than Jack ever thought he’d be up to trying with another man. Well, sometimes it’s against walls. Or on floors. Whatever, they’re not picky when these things come up, it’s more about discretion, adrenaline and whatever stable surface the can find at the time.

And they still don’t talk about it. It just doesn’t come up really. They need what they need, nothing more. 

Jack knew what he was getting into when he made the offer that night in the motel, the promise of a no judgment open door policy to whatever Mac needed from him. And yes it was probably a mistake given that his heart was completely gone on the kid, but if this was all Mac ever let him have, he sure as shit wasn’t going to get greedy and demand more. He knew it would end in his heart getting broken but he knew that was inevitable the first time Mac gave him an honest smile. He set himself up for the fall and it’s a price he’s willing to pay, but he’s just enjoying the view before he comes crashing down.

Besides, he was already getting as good a deal as anyone like him could ever hope to get here. He knew that every single time Mac gave him the Look, the one Jack’s long since deciphered to mean ‘I’m hurting and I need you’. 

And Jack needs him too, no question.

He knows that now more than ever, especially here in the backseat of this ancient SUV they’ve staked out in, sitting astride Mac’s thighs, letting Mac’s fingers work him open in a messy hurried stretch. 

And as good as it feels, it’s only a mild distraction for the furious exasperation he feels for Mac right now.

“Don’t you ever...” he growls between hard kisses that border on biting, “do that to me again, you hear me?”

Mac had nearly got himself blown away earlier tonight in a completely unnecessary risk. Had put himself deliberately in harm’s way, just for a chance at catching their target off guard and it had fallen through. The scuffle-firefight that ensued had ended with Mac’s damn near concussed self collapsed under a pile of bodies. Jack had just known Mac was going to be dead when he pulled him out.

But he’d been alive after all, thank god. Bloodied, bruised, and a tad shaky, but whole and alive. Jack had dragged him up and out of the area and to the stake out point they sat in now and when they realized it would be a wait before the target came back into range, they had decided how they would pass the time.

“I hear you.” Mac huffs back, voice drawn and tight as he works in a third finger, grinding up as he works their dicks together in a light teasing stroke in his free hand.

“I’m se-oh god...” Jack bites his lip, throwing his head back so he can relish the pressure of Mac’s hand around him and the stretch inside. “I’m serious, Mac. Don’t make me watch, unhh- watch you die like that, ‘kay?”

Mac doesn’t say anything to that, just leans forward and up to steal a kiss, panting into Jack’s mouth while he strokes them together. And yeah it feels good and Jack isn’t crazy enough to ask him to stop so he can get a legitimate answer but he needs a promise, his heart won’t steady itself until he gets one.

“Mac, please...” Jack growls, fisting one hand loosely in Mac’s hair to get his attention. When they lock eyes, Mac goes still with his full focus on Jack for the silent plea that must be written so plainly in his eyes.

“Mac, listen to me.” Jack grits out, trying not to squirm like an impatient child on the fingers still inside him. “You have to stop putting yourself deliberately in the crosshairs. You. Are. Not. Expendable.”

The expression Mac gets for that bitten out request is unreadable and oceans deep. The blonde looks almost pissed off about it, like he wants to tell Jack to go to hell for caring about what happens to him but is choosing not say anything.

But Jack’s never backed down from a challenge and he won’t let this drop til he gets some kind of real acknowledgement from Mac, pre-sex haze be damned.

“Promise me, Mac.” Jack begs softly, and he’s suddenly aware that this is changing the dynamic of this little romp from all their others. This moment isn’t just two buddies working out adrenaline highs in the comfort of skin on skin. This pleading order Jack’s just given is bordering on something much more intimate than sex. It’s a request tip-toeing the line of lover and friend, something begging to go between the gray area truce they have now and on to the vastness of more. “Promise me, you’ll try to be careful. I don’t want to lose you.”

And those words are so dangerously close to the real words he’s wanted to say for so long, he actually has to grit his teeth shut for fear of it escaping without his permission.

Mac seems to read something in those words because his face changes just a fraction, looks a degree gentler, warmer, than it did before. The fire in his eyes doesn’t look like defiance, it looks like resignation and chagrin.

“Okay Jack. I promise to try to be more careful. Okay?” He asks softly, the hand that had been rubbing them together now slid up Jack’s chest and curled warmly around the base of his neck to give a small reassuring squeeze. Jack nods and leans in to touch their foreheads together, eyes slipping closed against the wave of emotion that surges up through him before he can do anything embarrassing like cry about it.

“Thank you.” He answers reverently and it’s probably too obvious a response but Jack’s completely incapable of stopping himself. Mac brings so many things out of Jack from the very depths of his soul, he barely has time to shove all that he feels back under the surface. 

Neither move for a second, stuck seemingly at in impasse thanks to their random little heart to heart just now. He wonders if the moment has passed, if they should stop for now, but that thought doesn’t get far before Mac drags him down for a kiss and his hands get back to work.

The kid really does have talented hands.

Mac takes him apart the way Jack would field-strip a weapon. He does it in fluid clean stages, one step leading to the next without hesitation and if Jack’s going to be broken apart into separate little pieces, he wants it to happen by Mac’s hands alone. His beautiful genius is efficient, there’s no denying it, because the minute he’s taken Jack apart, he’s putting him back together just as quickly by filling him up and bringing them together so close there’s no telling where Mac ends and Jack starts.

“My god, that’s so good Mac...” Jack hisses when the kid is finally pushed inside of Jack, slid home and fully seated balls deep. There’s still the smallest burn of the stretch but it makes his gut burn and swoop with need. 

“Yeah?” Mac teases on a tiny thrust up that has Jack gasping in surprise. Jack swallows the word between a kiss and repeats it back.

“Yeah. You ready?”

“Yeah.” Mac groans when Jack lifts up and starts a steady roll up and down on top of him, using the head rest behind Mac’s head to steady and control his speed and position. It doesn’t take long to have them both sweating and gripping each other as Jack works himself on Mac’s dick like he’s getting paid for it. It’s a hard pace and feels damn good but he knows it’s not going to be enough to finish either of them and he figures that out about the time Mac pats his hip to get him to sit up.

“Up, turn around.” He orders gently, guiding Jack to sit back down facing away from Mac, and Jack has to lean forward to hold on to the two front seats. 

The wanton sound Jack makes when Mac slides himself back in would be a little embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that he’s too busy focusing on Mac’s hands on his hips, guiding him into position.

“Lean forward, I got you.” Mac whispers and Jack has to take hold of himself at those words, the sharp pang of want flaring brighter at the first snap of Mac’s hips.

“Oh shit baby, again, do it again!” Jack hisses and Mac doesn’t hold back. His hips drive up firm and fast, a punishing speed that has Jack’s legs shaking as he struggles to brace himself in a holding position. Mac’s fingers dig into his shoulders as he snaps up into him, each jerk forward startling aching cries out of Jack he didn’t even know he could make. God he’s going to be sore tomorrow but it’s worth every second.

Mac’s hard and fast approach is running out of steam, the only reason they’ve made it this long is Mac’s runner’s stamina but that’s only going to get them so far.

“C’mon, let me hear you...” Mac pants against Jack’s neck. It’s possessive, demanding and it makes Jack’s already leaking cock twitch at the order.

“Fuck, Mac, you’re so good...” Jack whimpers, sliding his hand down to cup his balls between strokes, clinging with one hand to the seat in front of him so he doesn’t get laid out for the brutal pace Mac’s set.

The blonde gives his shoulder an almost painful squeeze, a silent command and Jack just moans, he really can’t help himself. Mac shifts behind him, just a little difference in angle, and drives up hard, wraps an arm around Jack’s waist so that he’s covering his back as he pounds away. It’s madness pushing them forward, rutting like animals, sweat and sex smell filling the car’s cabin around them with their broken moans and grunts.

“Mac, harder, fuck baby, please...” Jack practically sobs, he’s beyond feeling any sense of shame while he’s this fucking close to the edge, and Mac doesn’t waste a second. He goes into a speed Jack can’t even possibly understand, his brain literally broken from the rush of it, and he doesn’t even have time to beg for more because his finish sneaks up on him and he yells his way through it into a supernova whiteout.

He comes around a few seconds later, leaned back heavily against Mac’s still heaving chest, long lean arms around Jack’s torso in a supportive hold.

“You with me?” Mac whispers gently, voice a touch worried and Jack just groans.

“Dude... did you just make me pass out?”

Mac huffs a relieved laugh against his shoulder, placing a warm kiss against the sweat-cooling skin. “Think so. Thought I killed you for a second. Sex-induced heart attack.” 

“Careful there, genius. Don’t want to give yourself too big a head, might not fit on the plane ride home.” Jack laughs, pats Mac’s arm and goes to shift away but freezes when Mac’s arms wrap tighter around his waist.

“Mac?”

“You’re not expendable either.” Mac tells him and Jack feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. It’s not just the words but the way he says it, warm and soft, like he’s revealed a long kept secret.

Jack sighs and nods. There aren’t words suitable enough to say thank you for that, so instead of speaking, he takes one of Mac’s hands and presses a kiss to the knuckles. 

They get themselves dressed and pulled together and finish the op without any trouble. On the way home, Jack sees Mac stroking the hand he kissed somewhat absently and it makes the love-sore heart in Jack ease in its ache. He thinks maybe he should plan to talk to Mac over a couple beers tonight, about this thing between them, about how, for Jack at least, this isn’t just sex and adrenaline.

When they get back to DXS, Thornton has a new recruit waiting to meet them. A leggy curvy blonde that goes by the name of Nikki.

Nothing goes according to plan after that.

——  
——  
——

—-  
——  
——

Jack and Mac don’t do any kind of extracurricular bedroom activities for awhile. Three years, at least.

He’s not complaining, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Jack had known it was a temporary thing, but he’d gotten used to it. It had been a crazy adjustment for him to go from getting regular post mission adrenaline-fueled sex with the same partner somewhere between two to three times a week for almost a whole year to absolutely nothing. He’d had to work his way through a number of seedy bar one night stands in the early weeks to get some relief from the itch under his skin before he eventually realized it wouldn’t be soothed.

The only person who could soothe him was Mac and Mac simply wasn’t available.

It was at first because Nikki had stolen the kid’s heart and taken him to cloud nine. 

Then her ‘death’ and betrayal had left him crashing and burning. Mac didn’t really recover from the situation so much as force himself to deal with it and move on.

And after Nikki’s leaving ripped the kid’s heart to shreds, Mac hadn’t wanted anyone to get too close for any reason. It had been difficult to watch and do nothing. 

Jack had known Mac would come around to something close to normal eventually, but he’d have to do it in his own time and on his own terms. It still hurt to see him suffering. Jack would do most anything to keep him from hurting.

It was like the Sandbox all over again. Mac and his thousand yard stare and Jack just trying to keep the kid from getting himself killed in action by his reckless mission first attitude. 

Mac threw himself head first into every assignment (dragged Riley and then eventually Bozer along for the ride) and Jack watched over them. Life went on, day by day and step by step.

They had quite a few close calls pop up in the year after Nikki’s leaving, ambushes, terrorists, bombs, the usual stuff.

But everyone has their breaking point, only so much shit they can handle alone before they fall apart.

The breaking point for Mac happens after Murdoc gets a hold of him. He didn’t get to work on Mac with any of his torture toys but it didn’t matter, the fact that he had gotten to Mac, in his own home no less, had shaken Mac’s peace of mind on a deeper level.

Jack walks in on that fact late one night, carrying a six pack of Mac’s preferred brand and a large New York style supreme pizza. He lets himself in, Mac’s nowhere to be seen, no biggie though, because he can hear him working on something with muffled metallic clunks echoing from the porch. He follows the noise, leaves the beer and pizza on the counter and goes to see what Mac’s up to and discovers the kid is in the middle of what he would call a full scale hissy fit.

The deck is a freaking war zone and Mac’s a one man demolition crew. Mac is slinging stuff around in violent jerky moves, tools, cardboard parts boxes, hell even the porch furniture hasn’t escaped his wrath. He was apparently working on the motorcycle, which is now kicked over on its side and dribbling oil onto the deck, and for whatever reason decided the best way to vent his frustration was to start wreaking havoc on everything he owns. The kid’s about to sling a wooden deck chair up against a wall when Jack manages to surprise him, lock his arms around Mac’s waist and yank him away.

“Let go of me!” Mac shrieks, red-faced and struggling as he drops the chair so he can take a swing at Jack. He throws an arm back and damn near catches Jack’s nose but when it’s clear he missed Mac rages with a wordless frustrated howl. Jack drags him back into the house, and does nothing, just keeps his arms around him while the kid tries to scream out his anger.

After a few minutes of struggling and screeching, Mac quiets down to just panting and the fight leaves his body enough that it’s only Jack keeping them standing.

“You gonna hit me if I let you go?” Jack asks quietly and Mac just shakes his head. He goes to step back but he’s no sooner released his hold on Mac’s waist when the blonde’s knees suddenly give and he sinks haplessly to the floor.

Jack kneels down and seats himself beside Mac on the floor, watching as the younger man struggles to breathe at a deep steady pace. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. They both know what the hell this is all about, but Jack doesn’t have a clue how to help with this part, other than to just be here. 

They sit in silence for awhile, just the sounds of the house settling around them in the dark and the tandem of their breaths syncing to one another’s pace, when the sound of a soft sniffle has Jack on alert like a gunshot.

He looks over and Mac has his face tucked into his hands, trying to be perfectly still and it sends Jack scrambling closer, closing the distance between them. 

“Oh Mac, Mac hey, c’mere buddy...” he whispers dragging Mac against his side, one arm around his shoulders but that seems to only make the sniffling give way to full on sobbing. Jack wraps his arms around Mac’s shaking frame and wishes for the hundred-thousandth time he had been there to protect him from all of this shit in the first place. 

“I-I can still feel his hands on me...” Mac whines around chattering teeth and shallow gasps. 

Jack feels his heart thundering in terror at the sorrowful confession. Mac hadn’t really told them much about what happened other than Murdoc hadn’t gotten to his full plans before Mac escaped. The idea that the bastard had put his hands on Mac at all was enough to make his blood boil but he can only imagine what would’ve had to take place to get Mac this level of unbalanced.

“It feels like-like he’s always here. I just w-want it to s-stop.” Mac adds softly, rubbing at his wet face furiously. Jack’s heart aches to fix this, but he simply doesn’t know where to start.

“I know, man. I’m so sorry. I’d give anything to take it away. If there’s a way to fix this- name your price, man, I’d give anything, Mac.” Jack vows and he feels more than sees Mac lift his head. He glances up to see red-rimmed blue staring at him with such depth, Jack’s sure if he stared too long, he’d drown in it.

In the depths of that perfect stare, he can read a whole book about Mac’s state of mind. He can see the doubts, the fears, the agony, the outrage, and below those surface expressions he sees so much more. A request and a plea, open unquestioned trust, a demanding desire and a nervous uncertainty. Jack sees every one of those flickering emotions shinning out at him like stars in the night sky and he feels himself echoing Mac’s silence.

“Jack...” it’s only his name but the tone Mac uses, the implication of it, is perfectly clear.

Jack knows what Mac wants by the Look in his eyes and Jack wants it too.

The only reason he hasn’t jumped Mac’s bones already is that he knows if they give in to the urge this time, it’ll be different. It won’t just be about adrenaline and relief. It won’t be a release, it’ll be a repair job. It’ll be about shoring up and patching the jagged raw pieces of themselves with each other. It won’t be just sex. It’ll be a whole lot more than that. 

But before Jack can figure out how to lead this conversation, because they really should have one, Mac interprets his silence and hesitation as a no, and unsteadily climbs to his feet, clearly on the retreat. That puts Jack in motion, scrambling up to his feet to pursue him.

“Mac wait-“

“It’s okay, Jack. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have...”

“Listen, Mac-“

“Just stop, Jack. It’s- was too much to ask, I wasn’t thinking. Just-“

Jack manages to think ‘fuck it’ in the two seconds before he seizes Mac by his shoulder, whirls him to face him, and attacks his lips. Mac hesitates only a second and melts into his grip, opening up and surrendering to Jack with a grateful sigh.

He backs them up further toward the hallway, fully intending to push Mac to his bedroom, but they end up against a living room wall instead and it doesn’t slow them down from making out like messy needy teenagers. Jack starts working the sensitive skin under Mac’s jaw with suckling open mouthed kisses.

“God I’ve missed this...” Mac groans quietly as Jack teases the birth mark under his jaw with his teeth before soothing it with softer licks.

Jack tries to tamp down the excitement that flares in his chest over that small confession, because it feels bigger than it probably really is. Mac almost certainly means the act of doing it for fun, not the fact that he’s doing it with Jack, but hey, if they’re going to have a roll in the hay between friends, Jack’s allowed to privately think/daydream/fantasize about whatever he wants. 

“Tell me what you want, Mac.” Jack whispers as he delivers a firm bite to Mac’s pulse point, shivering in response to Mac’s shocked growl of pleasure.

“Everything...” Mac hisses, grabbing at the back of Jack’s neck to steal control back for a moment. He and Jack share a hard fought kiss-bitten moan between their abused lips, before Mac pulls back enough to start worrying Jack’s neck in turn. “Just- Just make me forget. About everything.”

The unadulterated vulnerability Mac speaks with lights a fire under Jack’s skin and he doesn’t hesitate after that. He yanks Mac’s shirt up and over his head, throwing his own off a second later with Mac’s help. They shed their jeans next and boxers before Jack leans down and grabs Mac behind the knees and yanks him off the ground, up into his arms.

“Oh god-“ Mac yelps as Jack slams him against the wall, wrapping his legs instinctively around Jack for a better grip. Jack takes only a second to get them both in optimal sliding position before he starts a fast and raunchy bucking of his hips.

So now here they are, naked, crotch to crotch, humping furiously against each other in Mac’s darkened living room, and it feels as good, as right and safe, as it ever did. In Jack’s mind he can almost taste the desert air from a memory-wet dream he’s indulged in one too many times.

“Hold on, darlin’.” Jack growls against Mac’s lips between spit-slick kisses. “Hold on to me.”

Mac wraps his arms around Jack’s neck and moans against his shoulder, head down and just taking the brutality of his ministrations. Jack can only maintain the pace for so long, but just when his legs start to burn with the effort, Mac leans back to steal another kiss before he asks,

“Bed?”

“Sounds good.”

Mac starts to unwrap his legs but Jack bites Mac’s shoulder, startling a cry from him.

“Don’t let go yet.” Jack commands, walking them down the hall and back toward the bedroom, enjoying Mac still clinging to him like an oversized spider monkey. He manages to steal two more kisses before he sets himself down on the edge of the bed and lying back as Mac advances to biting at Jack’s jaw and sucking what is sure to be some impressive hickeys into his collar bone. 

After a moment or a lifetime, Jack definitely got lost in his own head while Mac was busy, Mac hops off his lap and starts rummaging in the side table drawer for supplies. He tosses a condom wrapper at Jack before flopping down beside him to start working himself open with lube-shiny fingers, eyes closed and low moans escaping between ragged breaths. Jack watches him work in fascination, watching how Mac opens to his fingers, how that tight pink ring stretches to accommodate one, then two fingers, how each slide in alternates between depth and speed. Jack mimics Mac’s speed with his own hand around his own profusely leaking dick, echoing Mac’s soft groans.

After what shouldn’t be enough time stretching, Mac’s wild blue eyes flash open and he demands, “Come on.”

Jack rolls the condom on quickly, and watches as Mac remains exactly where he is, legs spread invitingly, and the realization almost makes his brain short circuit.

This is new too. They’ve done a lot of stuff together but fucking face to face, full missionary isn’t really one of them. Not that he’s not game that is, it’s just... so intimate. He sidles in between Mac’s legs and hopes he doesn’t lose himself too quickly in this.

“You sure you’re ready?” Jack whispers stiffly, pressing his dick down and waiting for Mac to give him the okay. Mac gives him a shaky nod and throws his head back on a silent yell as Jack starts working himself into the overwhelming clench of Mac’s body. He waits when he’s about half way home, watching Mac pant sharp huffs like an air compressor and his already shaking body double times to the point he’s practically full body shivering.

“Mac?” 

“M’kay. Just need a second.” He whispers after a tense few seconds, “just been a while, y’know?”

Jack does. The kid barely prepped himself, so he has no doubt the burn-stretch of it all has to be a lot to take in, not to mention he’s no lightweight in the girth department.

“It’s alright if you wanna stop...” Jack promises honestly, even if his lizard brained instincts are demanding he drive in deeper to the heated velvet tightness around him, but this is about what Mac needs, he’ll follow his lead.

“Move, please... just a little.” Mac grunts, shifting his hips, so Jack lets himself sink in another inch before withdrawing and sinking in again. It’s a slow warm up but it doesn’t take long for Mac to start setting a pace, rocking up to meet him and leaning in to steal a kiss.

It’s as wonderful as Jack feared. It feels amazing, this perfect smooth slide rhythm they’ve got going, but he can see every thing written so plainly in Mac’s face that Mac might as well be a crystal ball, showing Jack everything about the future. 

He sees the way Mac tilts his head back, offering more skin for Jack to nibble on. He sees the way Mac’s eyes crinkle with tension then smooth with relief for deeper thrusts. He sees the way Mac needs more, but is holding back, for what though Jack’s not certain.

“Tell me, Mac...” Jack growls, sucks hard on Mac’s bottom lip, chasing the whimpers in Mac’s mouth as far back as he can. “How’d you want it? Tell me...”

Mac throws his head back, back arching a bit, and he shoves back against Jack like he’s trying to pick a fight, “harder.” He groans.

Jack complies, pulls Mac’s legs over his shoulders and doubles down for pace, with sharp, hard thrusts that force stuttered out moans from the blonde under him. But Mac, despite being bent in half and completely pinned by Jack, isn’t happy with just that.

“Harder, Jack!” He begs and Jack would laugh if he wasn’t so distracted, so busy trying to fuck Mac through his mattress.

“Christ, kid, gonna snap you in half if I go any harder...” Jack grits out, panting half for the effort and half for the gathering coil of fire building in his gut. 

“Please, Jack, need you to make me feel it...” Mac whimpers, gripping at Jack’s shoulder, and something about the way his eyes burn in the dim light of the bedroom like some sort of liquid fire, it breaks all of Jack’s pretense of holding back.

“You beautiful fuckin’- oh my god-!” Jack groans and gives in to the baser feral instinct to grip Mac hard and fuck. He pins him and fucks without mercy, his own startled cries merging with Mac’s. 

There’s nothing pretty about this, if anyone could see, it would look violent and horrific to any outside eyes. A snarling fistfight being played out between a pair of naked writhing muscled beasts. Scratching, bruising hands, bared teeth, growls and whines of pain and anger. 

It exactly what Mac needs, and Jack only understands because he’s been there. When you have to chase a thought out of your head, sometimes you need to make yourself feel something, anything, else. Sometimes that’s relief, sometimes that’s pain. Tonight’s clearly a pain kind of night.

When it’s over, Jack and Mac lay side by side, quiet aside from their breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Thanks.” Mac whispers, and Jack lets out a nervous laugh.

“Pretty sure that’s my line.” 

Mac grins at that but winces as soon as he shifts to sit up, getting up to walk stiffly toward the bathroom.

“Didn’t hurt you too much, right?” Jack listens carefully as Mac runs the sink tap before he tosses a damp rag out at Jack. 

“Nah. You good?” Mac asks as Jack stands and cleans himself up a bit, tossing away the condom. Jack just nods, feeling twenty years younger and more uncertain than ever. 

This is where things get awkward, Jack realizes. When they did this before, it was always in places or times that would give them an excuse to keep moving after, but that wasn’t the case now. Now, they had literally just turned their private little romps into a full blown friend’s with benefits situation and they’d have to deal with the boundary line they’d crossed. He wishes he knew where the boundary line was exactly. He feels more than a little out of place standing naked next to Mac’s bed, with only vulnerability urging him towards the exit.

But Mac doesn’t give him too much time to feel weird about it, because he’s suddenly coming back to bed, still naked, flipping back the covers and tucking himself into one side. He quirks an eyebrow at Jack, a challenge and a question in the slight raise of his brow.

“You coming?” He asks, eyes flicking down to the side of the bed like an invitation.

Jack tries not to let his heart get ahead of itself, over this most likely meaningless kindness his friend is offering him. He feels like he should give Mac an out.

“I know it’s late, maybe I should head out...”

“Just shut up and get in, Jack.” Mac mumbles and lays down, not waiting to see if Jack follows. Jack does eventually, follows Mac’s quiet command, like he always does. 

He’s been following Mac’s lead for years, and decides tonight’s no different. He’d follow Mac anywhere, after all.

—-  
—-  
—-

Everything officially changes after Desi calls Jack one night, about six months after he left to hunt Kovacs. 

He answers the call about a quarter til five am, and when he gets her no nonsense tone on the line Jack’s almost instantly awake.

“Dalton, you need to get your ass home. Right now.”

“Desi? What’s happened, is Mac-?”

There’s an annoyed sigh on the other end of the phone followed by a sadder one a moment later. “Mac’s fine physically.”

“But...?” Jack presses, already getting up, dressing in the dark by his bunk.

“But a lot’s happened since you’ve been gone. And I’m out of options.” She fills him in on everything and Jack doesn’t hesitate to get moving.

Jack’s on a flight home and back in LA in less than a day, having pulled a few strings with the brass to buy him a couple days. And when he gets dropped off via taxi at Mac’s place, his stomach is damn near twisted into a pretzel.

It’s late when he arrives and he decides to knock, instead of just walking in and surprising Mac. It takes a minute before lights in the house start coming on, and a quiet voice on the other side announces they’re coming. Jack steels himself as the door opens and Mac’s sleep bleary eyes land on him before widening in obvious surprise.

“Jack?” He whispers softly, scrubbing at his face like he might be dreaming still and Jack holds his arms open. Between one blink and the next, Jack has his arms full of Mac and the scent of his young partner is everywhere and all over him at once. It’s painful to know he’s been without this for so long, this joy that was never his to keep, but he’s going to enjoy every second he gets right now.

“You’re here.” Mac mutters breathlessly against Jack’s chest and crushes himself tighter to older man. “You’re really here.”

Jack just holds him tight, lets his duffle hit the steps behind him so he can grip Mac harder and, god, does it ever feel like coming home. Mac pulls back for a second to stare up at Jack, eyes red with threatening tears, and he sniffles.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I uh- how long?”

“No long, Mac, three days. Let’s not worry about any of that right now, though. I’m here now, okay?”

Mac just nods and leads the way back inside.

“Are you hungry?” Mac wants to know as he heads deeper into the living room, watching Jack settle his duffle on the couch. Jack shakes his head.

“Maybe later. Mac... I...” Jack doesn’t know where to begin. He’s always come when Mac’s needed him, but it’s clear standing here, that while Mac definitely needs him again, he’s holding himself back. He’s deliberately holding himself together in front of Jack, unable or unwilling to speak his mind. Jack knows that’s on him, Mac keeping his distance because it’s Jack that put hurt in him, maybe not all the hurt he’s carrying but still, and it makes Jack sick.

And then he realizes.

This is it. He needs to tell him everything.

Jack sees it now more than he ever did before. He needs to come clean and tell Mac the truth, should have long before now, but this moment is the one. It’s either go all in or out, and it’s strange because the feeling is instinctual but apparently mutual.

“Jack. Don’t.” Mac says suddenly, softly. His eyes are on the floor and he’s taking tiny steps back, away from Jack, retreating. “You... I’m glad you’re here man. You don’t have to say anything.”

And there’s Mac. Making the sacrifice play. Giving Jack an out.

But Jack is done running. And he won’t be hiding from Mac anymore, not when it’s clearly causing Mac more pain to not know where they stand. Consequences be damned.

“Mac.”

Mac turns away. He won’t look at Jack. His head stays down, and his shoulders are squared like he’s bracing for a blow. 

Jack crosses the silent living room and stops less than a pace behind the blonde. He waits to see if Mac will turn and when he doesn’t Jack cautiously, gently grips Mac’s biceps. Mac is perfectly still but Jack can feel him shaking under his hands and he curses himself for having put this kind of hurt into the only soul he ever swore would never hurt because of him.

“Mac, sweetheart, please...” Jack begs quietly and the reaction from Mac he feels more than sees. It’s like a high strength coil snapping, a flinch then a softening.

Mac turns to face him and Jack instantly replaces the hands he had on his shoulders on his hips. There’s only a few inches between them but the real gap is wide and deep. His eyes are watering, shimmering in the living room light, his expression drawn with grief.

“Don’t leave.” Mac whispers and Jack knows what he’s really asking, it has very little to do with him walking away in three days and everything to do with their partnership.

“Mac I can’t leave. I never should have tried. You have to know, you’re... what I’ve wanted for years. You’re the only thing in the world I can’t bear to live without. I’m sorry I let you believe I could be without you because it’s simply not true Mac. I need you. I always have.”

Mac doesn’t respond other than his eyes shuttering closed but the lines of sadness in his face seem easier now, like faded echoes, not agonies carved into the skin. It’s relief Jack sees there, and when those blue eyes open again the truth is right there, written plainly.

“I love you.” Mac tells him. It’s a surrender and an invitation. Jack doesn’t need to think twice.

Jack drags Mac in, they’ve done this before but it’s different now and Jack won’t be fooling himself for what this really is. He leans down to press his lips against Mac’s and swallows the easy sigh that meets him.

“I love you too. I don’t know if I’ll ever be enough Mac, but I want to try.”

“Then stay.” Mac pleads, desperate and rough, and leans into kiss the air from Jack’s lungs. Jack knows those words, has seen that Look before and Jack will be damned before he sees it again.

It’s not like it’s been in the past. It’s not a race, it’s not a wildfire racing to burn them to the ground, not a thunderclap explosion as they come together to lick the taste from each other’s mouths. It’s not electricity and definitely not a fight.

It’s like spring rain rolling over a mountain side. Its a steady heartbeat in the deep part of the night. It’s autumn breathing between fall heavy trees. It’s a deep wound healing. It’s a river moving slowly, surely, through paths long laid before down to the only destination it ever knew.

They belong here, they always did. They’ve wasted time and peace of mind but not anymore.

“Jack, please.” Mac pleads and Jack doesn’t bother pretending he could ever deny him anything.

Jack guides Mac back to his bedroom, stripping them both down along the way, and lays him down. When he covers Mac’s body with his own, it’s with warmth and the promise of safe harbors for both of them. Mac becomes clay in Jack’s hands, left to his will to be shaped and molded and coaxed into position. There’s no conversation to be had right now, it’s just the sounds of slick kisses exchanging one for the other and the panted eager breaths they manage between them.

He opens Mac to him, and pushes inside, and they rock together, steady and continuous like an ocean wave. Mac chants his name like a prayer and Jack is offering every praise he knows for the beauty of this gentle union of body, heart and soul.

Neither wants the end to come but they won’t be able to hold it back. They’ve been alone too long and their hearts are too sore to pretend they don’t need this. 

Jack entangles their hands together and meets Mac’s eyes as he captures his lips again. “Let go baby, I’ve got you.” 

Mac falls into it and Jack is honored, as he always has been, to be the one Mac trusts to catch him. They don’t rush to the height of climax, it sweeps over them slowly, smoothly, like night overtaking day. They don’t crow through their releases because today it isn’t a victory cry, it’s a solemn vow made in the dark between hearts.

The vow to guard and keep safe, to be honest and true, and above all to always stay.

They sleep beside each other and when dawn breaks conversations will still be had. Mac will talk about his losses, his uncertainties without Jack. Jack will talk about his hunt and how things don’t seem right. There will still be mysteries and problems to solve because, sad to say, love doesn’t conquer all but they will face them head on, never again alone. 

Nothing can take them apart now, they’re in motion together, just like Mac said all those years ago. It’s the way the world works, according to gravity.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are adored


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